


Swandive

by eggblue



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Blood, Knifeplay, M/M, Restraints, Self-Destruction, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-10
Updated: 1999-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggblue/pseuds/eggblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of the beauty was stripped away like it had never existed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swandive

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after 'A Fairytale About Slavery' fic (not necessary to have read to understand this) and after 5th season 'Purgatory/Inferno' episodes. You get the hurt/more-hurt-instead-of-comfort idea.

**********

And we steal our experience from an object that suffers  
But the brightest pain leaves a shadow on no one  
I saw you through the window masturbating to the violence  
And the blood and the bodies floated through the blue sun...  
But you’re beautiful, and you’re real  
Are you beautiful, are you real?

\-- SWANS, “Telepathy”

**********

Alone again, and always, always alone.  
  
All he could see was darkness. He couldn’t even hear himself breathe or his heart beating. But he felt the pain. It surrounded him like a blanket, like the blackness, and it was all he could feel.

His mind was completely out of his control, journeying to places unbidden, keeping him awake when all he craved was the empty silence of sleep. It was as if his mind was punishing him as well, destroying itself like his body had been destroyed, utterly, completely. Every dark place he had ever been, every nightmare, every horrible truth that he had ever known came back to him in wave after wave of torturous thought.

His disastrous life as Jules, the pity, the disappointment, the frustration. His parents and their solution. Even things that he hadn’t remembered in years. His time spent at Adigeon Prime, his loneliness in school, his father’s face as he threatened him at 15, the way he felt when his world came crashing down. The look in his ballerina’s eyes when she left him, relieved, pitying.

The days he learned what sex was, and war, and disease. The hunger of knowledge and the emptiness of truth. The hope for freedom that the station brought, and the reality of his prison. Everything that he escaped from in the holosuites, and in his work, and in his mind.

All of the beauty was stripped away like it never existed, and the clarity Julian felt left him gasping for air, and for one solid thing to hold onto as the tide of blackness kept coming, and coming, and coming...

Then finally, there was light again.

And Garak.

Julian would have expected anyone else to be his savior from this place, anyone except Garak. In fact, he hadn’t thought about the Cardassian tailor, his weekly lunch companion, in what seemed like forever. Garak just didn’t work like that. He was... different, in every respect. For this reason, or perhaps another, Julian found himself unable to leave his friend’s side, or erase his image from the forefront of his mind. The next few days passed in a blur for him. Meanwhile, no one ever mentioned the rape he suffered at the hands of the Jem’Hadar to himself or Garak, and he never spoke of it again.

He remembered Tain’s deathbed, how vulnerable Garak looked as he called out to his father, and something about that moment awoke something deep inside of him. He would never be able to recall exactly what it was, but as the old Cardassian passed on, Julian found a calmness that he’d never known. He watched Garak bare his soul, and beg for acknowledgment, and then saw the frustration and anger, the devastation, at being given so little in return. At that same moment, kneeling on the cold floor, Garak lost the only reason that he’d ever found, and his past and future faded into nothing more than a shadow caused by a setting sun.

***

Just when Martok thought that it couldn’t get any worse, his rescuers showed up. Not that they were much comfort. Worf might have been a good friend, but if he were looking for someone to help him escape from a prison, Worf would not be his first choice. Now Garak, he was another matter entirely. But where Worf might lack the ingenuity, Garak lacked any semblance of trustworthiness. And as Garak now found himself surrounded by the Dominion, a former enemy that just signed a pact with Cardassia, trust was the only thing that Martok desperately needed from him. But he supposed it was for the best, because with the imminent death of Tain, their last hope for escape was lost.

As Garak worked within the wall to set up the transporter, Martok was left alone with the rest of the prisoners. The silence was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Bashir looked horrible, yes, but nowhere near as bad as he had expected. The Vorta must have has his wounds healed, and there was no other sign that anything had happened to him. It was a good thing, really, because Martok didn’t feel like talking about it, especially not with Worf there. And as far as he was concerned, it was better to never mention the ordeal again. Julian was obviously dealing with it well, as far as he could see. Perhaps the man wasn’t in so much pain, perhaps it was all in his own imagination and Bashir was never hurt that badly...

***

Garak swore that he was dying. The crushing suffocation that he felt when the light suddenly went out. The already-cramped space that he was in seemed to collapse down upon him. As the panic set in, quickly and without reason, he lashed out at the walls, banging and banging his fists, trying to break the surface. In an instant, Julian was there, holding him, leading him to safety. Too much, it was just too much. Cardassia joining the Dominion, his father giving him *nothing* on his deathbed, the hellish conditions inside the wall bringing back his claustrophobia with full force... But still, he had to get back to work. He had to free them, and get back to DS9. He owed Julian that much, didn’t he?

But owe him for what? His addled mind for the life of him couldn’t remember why it was so important that he save Julian, and the others, but he knew that he was their only hope. If his father were still alive to see him, huddled under this blanket, shaking with fear and memory, he would never have forgiven him. But then again, Tain had never forgiven him anything, and the man was dead, that was certain. For years he had lived in his father’s shadow, afraid to live a life of his own, or even learn how to live with the farce of a life that he had now. Everything that he had done in the past now meant nothing, as the man he had done them for was no longer there to watch.

To Tain, life was a hated thing to be living, and there was no room for sentiment or beauty or truth. Everything that Tain had told him he now saw clearly was a lie. And the futility of it all sickened him, and the life that he had been ignoring now crashed down upon him, like walls falling away to reveal a sun too bright for forgotten eyes.

Julian watched his friend’s back, wrapped in a blanket, shivering. He’d never known that Garak was claustrophobic, just as he had never known that Tain was his father. He felt as if he was looking at a different person, someone with vulnerabilities and weaknesses. His whole Cardassian past seemed to be shaped by the whims of one man, while whatever else that Garak had, the self that was his own, he now showed to Julian. It flattered the doctor, as he thought about it. But the worthlessness of it all, the sheer waste of time, almost made him laugh.

He felt freer than he had ever felt before, finally able to see life through eyes so open, so naked to the travesty that was going on around him. He knew what Martok thought, what everyone was thinking. That perhaps it was all over, perhaps Julian didn’t recall what had happened to him after the guards took him away. Perhaps, even, Julian would never mention it again, and they could all forget that it ever happened. That was fine with him.

He didn’t need to explain himself, or tell anyone about the Jem’Hadar, how they gut him, bled him, left him too numb to even scream. It was enough that he knew, that he remembered it all, down to every last detail. He kept the memory at the forefront of his mind, to remind him of what he must remember and what he was always meant to see. He didn’t want to be like Garak, blind for so long. He wanted to remember the pain that led to his freedom, and no one would take it away from him.

***

They arrived on DS9 without event. Julian was questioned by Starfleet, as well as everyone else. But secrets were kept and soon it was over.

He was never found out, by anyone, least of all his parents. Julian was able to carry on with his life as he had before, by making adjustments here and there. He just had to remember to keep listening to himself, to not forget. He couldn’t afford to let himself go now, not when he had so much still to discover.

Here are some things that Julian discovered:

He learned to play little games with himself when others were around. He became an expert at playing the fool, making odd jokes and innocent comments when something more serious was called for. But no one noticed because he was Julian, and besides, he was genetically engineered, so he’s always been a little strange, hasn’t he? Or so it seemed. Julian also learned to take good care of himself. He began to eat differently, only the simplest of foods and drink. He wanted to be sure to keep everything straight so as not to confuse matters. He listened to everything that his body told him, when to cut his hair, when to shower, when to sleep, when to wake up, when to exercise. He didn’t let his mind rule what his body was doing. Julian survived on instinct and intuition, so long as it didn’t bring him undue attention. And this was easy to do. His friends had their own lives, their own worries to keep them busy, and no one suspected that there was anything wrong.

Julian was sure that everything was going exactly as it should have. His work still took up alot of his time, and with the war, he was busier than ever.

***

Garak survived like he always had. He tried to find out as much information about what was happening on Cardassia as he could possibly get his hands on. But it was hard, and his heart wasn’t in it. Of all the things that Garak questioned, his loyalty to Cardassia had never been one of them. But with Tain gone, he found himself wondering if his loyalty ever lay with his home, but rather with his father. And then that dreaded trip to Empok Nor with Chief O’Brien, and his final, debilitating humiliation. He was reminded again of how his people could sometimes be, without the luster of patriotism to blind his sight. In one instant he became a brutal killer, and all he was left with was the remorse along with the accusing stare of O’Brien, cursing him when he dared to sleep.

To make matters worse, Julian attended to him in the Infirmary. If Garak had been able to sink any lower, Julian would have been the catalyst. The Cardassian’s shame grew tenfold as the doctor touched him, reminding him of his long-present feelings for his human friend. A part of him knew that he was helpless in the face of his feelings, especially now that all he believed in was stripped away. But he couldn’t give in, and lose the only shred of self-respect that he had left. Not now.

***

Julian was overcome with fascination as he touched the Cardassian’s broad chest, checking him for injuries. He was sure not to reveal any of his thoughts to his patient. But he had to admit to himself that it was quite extraordinary to see Garak like this. He remembered the Garak that he had seen shaking in the bed back at the prison camp. And he wouldn’t have thought it possible then, but the man actually seemed more shaken up now than he was when he was when suffering the shock of his claustrophobic attack.

“Well, everything seems to check out fine. I’ll have to hold you here a few more days, I’m afraid, just to make sure that all the chemicals have completely left your system. But after that’s all taken care of, you’ll be free to go,” Julian finished with a smile.

“Thank you, doctor,” Garak just closed his eyes and lay back on the bed, thankful that Julian had finished his examination. He didn’t open his eyes again until he heard the doctor leave, unable to even look at him from across the room.

***

The stars turned the darkened room into navy blue, glowing just enough to keep Julian awake. His thoughts, traveling in circles like he allowed them to do, kept revolving back to Garak. The Garak that he saw today in the Infirmary mesmerized him. It was as if the Cardassian he knew had been stripped of everything that he had once been, and all that was left was a shell. He remembered when Garak had been so confident that even Gul Dukat, Major Kira, and even Captain Sisko couldn’t faze him. Today, it seemed as if he was afraid to look Julian in the eye for more than an instant.

This Garak was horrifying to see, and achingly pathetic to Julian’s eyes. And in a moment of weakness, he saw something in Garak, something underneath the raw and worn emotions. He saw Garak reaching out to him, and trying to hide as well, like a guilty child with his hand in the cookie jar. One moment he would be unconsciously leaning into Julian’s touch, and the next, trying to forget that Julian was even in the room.

He sunk into sleep that night easily, indifferent to the unanswered questions still circling around in his mind.

***

The dream started off slowly, remaining vague and cloudy until the images built upon themselves, creating a mosaic of thought and emotion. He was watching himself with Garak from a distance. They were stripped of their clothes, kissing and fondling each other urgently, oblivious to his presence. His twin was backed up against the wall in his bedroom as Garak pressed the entire length of his body against him, holding him close. Julian watched the lovers silently, awaiting nothing.

The dream shifted again. He found his vision clouded in a gray haze, and the air surrounding him turned cold. He reached above him in a call to his own image, and found his hand blocked. The floor to his bedroom was now his ceiling, covering him and shutting him inside. He punched at the hard surface and yelled at the top of his lungs but neither man heard him.

Then he stood helplessly as the dream rearranged itself before his eyes. He was no longer buried underneath the floor, but instead, he was underwater, covered by a sheet of blue ice. The coldness was unbearable, and before he could stop it, liquid ice was flooding his lungs. Julian punched at the ceiling with all his strength, panicking and suffocating. He threw up another fist, already bloody with the force of his blows, and it broke the surface. He found his wrist encircled in a warm hand, holding him fast. Without a thought he snapped his arm back into the water, bringing his rescuer back in with him.

The ice suddenly turned dark. The water, blacker than ink, flowed around their fallen bodies. Julian reached out and found Garak, floating around his legs, holding him down. He kicked once, sending a blow straight to Garak’s lower abdomen. The Cardassian clutched at his side, taken by surprise. Swimming to the surface, Julian found his dream image waiting for him, helping him out of the cold water and into his arms. They sat together, staring at the dark surface of the pool as it rippled violently with Garak’s struggles to free himself. But neither moved to help him, and eventually the waves stopped, and even the stars disappeared after a time, and left the room to the darkness.

***

It began the night after Ziyal’s death.

Garak made up his mind. Or rather, his mind was already made up, he just decided to accept it. All the time he spent with Ziyal, protecting her from himself, and at the same time protecting himself from Julian. Now she was gone, and in the end, she left him empty as well.

Garak knew what he wanted, but the truth was hard to accept. Since his father died, he began to see everything so clearly. All the life that was around him, the parts of himself that he chose to ignore, seemed to surprise him at the worst possible moments. But how could he tell himself no? When everything was falling apart at the seams, when he was losing himself a little more each day?

He felt like a parasite had taken over his body, replacing all the long-dead parts of himself with new memories, new sensations. He craved every invasion of himself, with fear and trepidation. At the same time, the self that he remembered, spy, soldier, torturer, haunted him like never before, dredging up fears and hatred from deep inside. Garak had never felt more vulnerable. But the wonder he felt for Julian overpowered it all. He felt like a child again, where just the mention of that beautiful name could cause him to daydream, and long to forget.

Julian accepted the offer to meet Garak at his quarters at 0200 in the middle of the night. Garak tried to read his expression as his friend accepted his proposal, but he was unreadable. Plus, Garak had learned of late that he couldn’t afford to ask too many questions. It made him think of an old Terran saying, something about a horse’s mouth, but he didn’t like what it implied, so he ignored that as well.

***  
  
Julian thought of Garak often. In fact, the Cardassian was never far from the forefront of his mind. Julian had always loved a good mystery, and when it came to a challenge, Garak was the best one that he’d ever found. He pictured Garak in a myriad of situations, all vividly clear in his mind. Garak as an orphan, alone and fierce, fighting to make a name for himself when he had none. Garak as a young man, trying to please his father. Garak as an operative, torturing prisoners beyond the call of duty, gaining a reputation of fear and hatred. Garak and Ziyal, the way she led him into places alien to his memory, taking away the last shred of certainty that he owned.

It was all plain to him now. The man who had led him down so many paths and mazes full of lies and deceptions, now made clear to him through the cleansing fires of tragedy. Julian saw in Garak a chance to go deeper into the wondrous abyss that he found, and find an answer still hidden there.

***

Garak was tied to the bed.

Julian said that it was the only way, and if so, then he gladly obliged. He’d wanted this for so long, he was willing to do anything. So Julian encased his wrists in restraints and fastened them tightly to the headboard. Garak had plenty of room to move around in, but Julian said that he had to be lying face-down.

Garak had no complaints. His entire body became focused on what Julian was doing to him. He was beyond thinking, writhing on the bed. Garak knew that he could accept everything given to him without protest, but this was almost too much. He was on his hands and knees, his head bowed as far forward at it could go. His neck was as taut as a steel cable. He felt everything with a naked clarity, completely giving himself over to Julian.

Garak couldn’t see Julian fucking him from behind. He couldn’t see his face racked with concentration, or how the muscles of his arms stood out in relief with the strain. He thoroughly used Garak’s body in every way he could to bring himself to release. His hands on tight hips, scaled thighs, mindlessly caressing and grabbing in turn. Pressing his entire weight to Garak with each thrust, chasing down his orgasm, so close. Pushing Garak’s body flat against the soaked sheets, fucking him harder, then pulling him back up again. His nails clawing at the textured back, drawing raised scratches, tiny pinpoints of blood beading up and then smeared into sweat-drenched skin. Julian’s hot breath rolling down his spine, his forehead rubbing against Garak like a lazy cat at its master’s feet.

Julian’s mind raced, feeding off the heat rising off of Garak from beneath him. He ran his hand over the scaled skin, committing every ridge, every scar, to memory. He’d imagined this moment for months, how this silvery-gray skin would feel to his touch, the smell and the taste of him. And he wanted more of it all.

Garak was calling out his name, constantly, unknowingly. With patience, Julian whispered in a soft hush, blowing desperate breaths into his ear. He imagined forcing himself on the Cardassian without fear, without hesitation. But Garak was on his hands and knees beneath him, and practically begging for him to finish, or never finish, or just calling out his name. Julian had never suspected that Garak wanted him this much, that Garak could be so reckless with his desires.

He liked seeing the Cardassian open for him, wanting him in this way. It was just as he’d imagined it so many times, alone in his thoughts, conjuring up images of Garak in positions, moods, elaborate fantasies. His Garak liked desperation and danger, the feeling of forever in a kiss, the way fucks lived on after they were gone. His Garak was a slave to his passions, following him wherever he went, asking nothing, saying nothing. His Garak loved being taken like this more than anything, tied up and turned around and hidden from view. Julian pictured his Garak before him now, transposing his mental image onto the man beneath him, like a curtain on a window, only letting in the soft light.

He knew that he could handle this. Julian was giving all that he allowed to Garak, and in return, he took everything that Garak had. It was fair, it was mutual, and agreed upon in a silent bargain. Julian knew of no other way. A part of him needed it to feed his addiction. He had to remind himself of the anger and the repulsion, so he could never leave this place again. Julian knew where he was, and knew it was where he belonged.

Garak wanted more, while at the same time barely able to hang onto what he had. Julian needed him, he realized. It felt like a miracle, a thing so pure and beautiful. Julian *needed* him to do this, to show him... what? His new-found optimism didn’t leave him deluded enough to imagine that it might be love. Garak wasn’t even sure that he would be able to recognize it if it came to him. But he was trying to. He was trying to understand what Julian wanted from him, and he gave of himself freely. Garak kept denying what it was doing to him. He couldn’t let this night go without knowing for sure...

“Julian, I want to see you.”

The man on top of him froze. Garak tried to turn his head to get a better view. For a moment, all they could hear was the sound of their labored breathing, waiting for an answer. Then Julian started moving again, “Shhhh...” was all he answered. He regained his focus, found his rhythm as he continued to fuck Garak, the edge finally in sight. He began to call out unintelligibly, little panicked gasps of suffocated frustration. Julian ran his nails down Garak’s back harder now, like he was blaming him for his imminent orgasm. It was almost over, and then it was upon him, rolling across his skin from his hairline to his toes, and then gathering within and pushing outward, into Garak. As soon as he came, he dropped back onto the bed, leaving the other’s body completely.

Garak waited for him patiently, in a place somewhere between heaven and hell. Julian left him with a profound sense of purity, but he also left him unsatisfied as well. He had no way to access his aching hard cock, left at Julian’s mercy.

“Julian, please! Let me see you, touch me now! I can’t... I can’t wait any longer,” he pleaded.

Julian didn’t want any more from him, but he was strangely curious. If he let this happen, maybe it would be alright. If he let Garak touch him, maybe he’d find more of what he was looking for.

Julian took a deep breath to steady himself in preparation to what he was about to do. He retrieved the tube of lubricant that he’d used with Garak and began to prepare himself. He closed his eyes and thought of the balance that performing this act with Garak would give him. Julian knew how close Garak was to giving himself over to him. With this act, he might just have it all. Just this once, on his own terms, and it would be set.

He used the remaining lube that he had on his hand and reached underneath Garak, spreading it over his erect cock with thick strokes. Then Julian slid underneath his arms and lay back against the pillows, facing Garak’s waiting form above him. Without a word, he swung his legs out around the Cardassian’s taut and muscled back. One sharp heel crept up to rest beneath his neck, resting between shoulder blades. The other remained tight against his middle back. Garak entered him as slowly as he could manage, barely able to hold back any longer.

Julian winced and bit his lip as he felt the sharp pain. He wondered instantly if he should regret this, and glared up at Garak. The face that looked back at him almost made him wish that he hadn’t. Garak’s face was rapt with concentration and control, sweat-covered with the effort of what this was taking from him. His eyes looked down at Julian from above, shining with an open longing and wanting that he miserably tried to hide. He couldn’t dare believe that he had become this weak. Julian did this to him, made him believe that something in what they were doing could work. What was worse, he wanted to believe that Julian was right, more than anything. As much as Garak tried to hide it, Julian could see the questions etched on his face, openly read from his body.

He wouldn’t answer them. His Garak never asked such questions from him, so confusing and frightening. Julian needed the smallest amount of Garak that he could take, and Garak wanted everything in return. It wasn’t fair, and he couldn’t let Garak have him, not like this, not ever. Only so much...

Garak was completely inside of him now. Julian moved his legs to hold him closer. He wrapped the lower half of his leg around Garak’s hip and across his backside, holding him inside and still, so he couldn’t pull out. His other leg moved further down from its position between Garak’s shoulder blades, to rest in the crook of his bent elbow. Julian now held the Cardassian firm against him, too tired to try to fight, too desperate to want to. Julian decided to give him a little more, just enough to end this struggle for now. His own hands remained free and able to do as he pleased.

With the lightest touch he could manage, Julian ran his hands over Garak’s chest, trailing up the sides of his ribcage, and then back down again. He grazed nipples, skin, soft underbelly, with delicate fingertips, leaving tiny trails of ice wherever he touched. Shivers coursed through Garak’s body, almost enough to make his teeth chatter, while his groin continued to ache and smolder. He closed his eyes against Julian’s steady gaze and lowered his head. He continued to gasp and shake, while Julian never relented.

He moved to Garak’s back next. He trailed the sensitized skin with his fingers, tracing every scratch that he’d made and every tensed muscle beneath. He circled his fingertips around and around, just for a moment on Garak’s neck, then his shoulders, down his spinal column, massaging his buttocks lightly, lightly... His dark-gold eyes remained fixed on Garak’s face, examining it. The Cardassian face that floated above him was a study in contrasts. Veins and muscles stood out in full relief against engorged ridges and flowing black hair. The eyes were shut tight as if in pain. At every new touch, the tense mouth would give into a silent gasp, or wordless pleading, and then close again into clenched teeth and open lips, barely breathing.

Julian moved his fingers to tease at Garak’s opening, sending spasms of pleasure up and down his body uncontrollably. Garak cried out now, for Julian, for release, for an ending. Julian captured his mouth in a first kiss to regain his attention, and rocked his hips just once, letting Garak escape for a moment and then drawing him back inside. It was enough. Still shaking on the verge of collapse, Garak came, unaware of where his orgasm began or ended, weakened and lost to the point of abandonment. Sometime after, Julian let go of him and left his body to fall on its own. He never remembered reaching the ground.

After Garak passed out, Julian moved out from beneath him. He left the restraints fastened while he slept, leaving him on his stomach with his arms raised above his head. Julian remained on the bed, watching him. He was careful not to touch his skin, but he could still feel the heat as it rose off of his body. If he kept his hands and face just so far from the skin, he could *feel* Garak, his heat and scent and taste. Julian felt himself become hard again for the first time since his last orgasm. He started at his feet, toes flexed and flayed in rest. He moved past the slow curve of his calves, to the moist and glistening backs of his knees, sweat still gathered there. Julian could smell its saltiness and the temperature change where it cooled his gray skin. Next, he came across hard thighs and buttocks. Unable to resist, Julian rested his forehead against Garak’s lower back, immersing his face in him and breathing him in completely. His licked his tongue against the tailbone, at the meeting of Garak’s two halves. He tasted smooth, like the skin and flesh that he was.

Julian began to touch himself as he got more aroused by this sleeping body. He could still feel the remains of Garak on his penis, now dried, and it aroused him even further. He kept his face close as he continued to travel up the spinal column, up to the spread shoulder blades, like bird’s wings. Julian rested for a moment in the scent and feel of Garak’s underarm, his elbow, his hand like a falling leaf, then returned to his neck. He traced over the curve of jaw and ear, tasting the hot breath and heavily scented hair. Dark threads flew in all directions over the pillow and the resting face, in hard black lines of shining midnight...

***

Julian was in a field of black corn, with tall stalks stretching over his head. A warm wind blew strong across the field, rippling the stalks like an ocean of waving arms, reaching to heaven. Julian fell to his knees as he felt the pressure drop. He clawed the black earth till it ran underneath his fingernails, and looked up at the darkening sky. Huge clouds stormed overhead, in some sort of communion with the field below. He felt it coming before he saw it, the pressure in his head building to impossible heights and the hair on his body standing on end.

Then the storm was upon him, crashing down all around. The cornstalks blew in all directions, slashing his skin and razoring his flesh from the bone. In a split second, the stalks were torn from the earth and flown to the sky. Julian screamed and clawed at the ground as dirt filled his nose, ears, mouth, body...

***

Garak awoke with sharp pains in his sides. He numbly felt a weight pressing down on his back and hot air at his neck, and the strangled cries of an animal assaulted his ears. When he opened his eyes and saw the restraints encasing his wrists, he remembered where he was, and the night came back to him at once.

“Julian...,” he whispered softly, but there was no answer. He felt the young man at his back, his hands digging into his sides, right above his hips.

Julian didn’t hear his name, in fact he was barely aware of where he was. His face was buried in Garak’s hair as he lay on the man’s back. He held onto him as tight as he could, and came hard, his penis resting in Garak’s cleft. All the while he cried out in deathly tones of fear and sadness, not even human in memory or sound. Julian was completely unaware of what he was doing, still taken over by his recent retreat to another place.

Garak didn’t know what else to do except hold on and wait for it to be over. He didn’t recognize Julian this way, but he couldn’t go back now. Ever since Julian had kissed him, he had given himself over completely to the man who held him in his limbs, the man who was now holding onto him with all of his strength. At that moment, he knew that he was done for. Julian had him with no hope of escape, and Garak knew it. But he had decided when Tain died, when Ziyal died, that there was no other way it could be. The beauty that he now searched for, that he desperately craving, had always been embodied in Julian. Where he had ignored all that was around him, Julian had been collecting it like a prism, purifying the light, instead of hiding from it. He felt it lying here with Julian, that that beauty was close to him, and he couldn’t turn away from it again.

It wasn’t until early morning when Julian awoke to find himself laying on top of Garak. The Cardassian was still sleeping soundly, and he didn’t want to wake him. He just knew that he had to get out of there, now. He found his clothes lying neatly on a chair and he gathered them in his arms and headed for the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, showered and shaved, Julian had to admit that he looked a little bit better. He figured that if anyone asked, he could chalk up his disheveled appearance to a late night spent celebrating the station’s recent return to Federation hands.

He crept back into the bedroom to leave a key to the restraints at Garak’s side.

“Julian, wait.”

He froze at the words. Garak was awake.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that you were awake.” He smiled a little smile and began to work at the first lock.

“You’re not leaving for work so soon? Wait, Julian, I think that we need to talk this over.”

He let out a small laugh, “Garak, come on, I have to get to the infirmary. I left it in a mess last night. You saw, you were there.”

His last sentence struck Garak like a blow, as it was intended to be. Ziyal had been in the Infirmary, and that was where he watched her die.

Julian pretended to ignore the emotions that played on Garak’s face as he worked to unlock the second restraint. “There, now you’re free,” he smiled again, and headed for the exit. “We’ll talk later.” He never turned around as he left the room.

***

Garak rolled over just long enough to realize that it wasn’t a very good idea. The scratches on his back were still new and raw, and his backside ached terribly. Looking down, he could see two deep bruises just above his hips where Julian had held onto him so tight. He winced with every step towards the bathroom, and sighed as he emptied his bladder. It wasn’t until he had finished cleaning up and getting dressed when he allowed himself to think about Julian again. Even after years of waiting, it still seemed to be moving too fast. Last night was decided by circumstances of triumph and tragedy for both of them, and Julian seemed to be no less confused than he himself was right now.

He thought about Julian’s last words, and hoped that they would be able to talk about this soon. Garak didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this, or how much longer he could go without feeling Julian touch him again.

***

Fortunately for Julian, the infirmary was a mess. He worked all throughout the day and part of the night just to make sure that everything was safe. He still had to check all of the computer files and write his report for Starfleet. By using the war as an excuse, Julian was able to avoid Garak for the rest of the week. In fact, he never even saw the tailor during the few times that he left the infirmary. Afterwards, he learned that Garak was busy dealing with Starfleet working to increase his duties in decoding Cardassian transmissions. Right now, Julian didn’t feel much like talking to anyone, much less someone as newly open with him as Garak was becoming.

He told himself that he just needed time to sort things out, but he knew that wasn’t the real truth. He didn’t *want* Garak, it was as simple as that. But a part of him *needed* him for something, there was no denying it. Julian still thought about Garak frequently, he still had his fantasies about him and he remembered most of what happened in Garak’s quarters that night. It didn’t seem like much, just one night, a mistake, where he let his imagination get carried away. He hoped that Garak wouldn’t ask for more from him. More than anything, he wasn’t prepared for that. As much as he had an appreciation for Garak’s new vulnerability, he would prefer to do without all the questions and need that seemed to come with it. But if he could continue with the balance that they had now, he could handle this. Julian could take what he needed, and Garak would just have to make that enough.

Meanwhile, Julian continued to look over the patient records in his medical files, and the endless lists of wounds, sickness, and disease that filled them.

***

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard. Starfleet asked for insurance from him, some way to make sure that he could be trusted. Garak obliged by answering their questions about Tain and his role in the Order, about the reasons for his exile, and what exactly it was that he did on Deep Space Nine. It really wasn’t that hard. Of course, a few facts still had to be kept secret, but he told them about his father and the time that he spent with the Obsidian Order and they seemed pleased enough. Not for the first time today, Garak wondered at why he had kept so many secrets for so long. He supposed that it was because he still had something to lose then, and he still felt that he owed it to Tain. What a fool he had been! So much energy spent sharpening the skills that he had learned, and all for what? All that it did was keep him alone and angry, far away from Julian and his home and his family and Ziyal...

Garak never realized just how good a liar he was. He even started to believe them himself. He believed that Tain really cared for him, and that all his sacrifices were worth it. He believed that there was strength in loneliness and isolation. But how wrong he had been! Garak vowed to himself that no matter how long it might take, he would make it right again. He could have Julian, and friends, and do right by Cardassia, and he didn’t give a damn what his father might have said about it. He could break free from the chains that had kept him in the dark all these years. And even if it all fell apart, Garak would at least know that he had tried in the end to change things for the better.

*

Setting: The infirmary, late morning

“Doctor?”

A polite smile: “Oh, um, hello Garak! Is there something I can help you with?”

Smile returned: “Well, I don’t know about that, but you could decide to have lunch with me this afternoon.”

Now regret: “I’m afraid that I can’t. As you can see I’m loaded with work here, and I can’t get away right now.”

Persistence: “Well, then how about tonight? for dinner? Perhaps in your quarters? I don’t know if I have to strength or the self-discipline to brave Quark’s tonight.”

Unsure: “Maybe. I’ll have to get back to you on that. If I can get some more things done here, perhaps I will be able to get away.”

Push harder: “That doesn’t sound very promising, Doctor. I haven’t even seen you around enough this week to see how you were doing, much less anything else with you. And you told me that we could talk sometime. I think that tonight is as good a time as any.”

Pause: “Alright Garak, but it won’t be until very late. I have alot of work to catch up on.”

Acceptance: “Fine, then I’ll see you at 2500 hours? in my quarters?”

Sigh: “Yes, fine Garak. 2500. Now if you’ll excuse me...”

Relief: “Yes, of course Doctor. Good day.”

***

Julian arrived in Garak’s quarters that night for a late dinner, as promised. He felt awkward sitting across the table from Garak’s scrutinizing eyes, waiting for him to say something. He saw Garak trying so hard but he couldn’t bring himself to make it any easier on him. There was just nothing to say.

“Julian... do you... regret last week?”

Julian looked up from his plate, where his eyes had been tracing the replicated plate pattern for several minutes. “Garak?” He slanted his head in mock confusion, trying to seem as innocent as possible. For a man like Julian, that wasn’t too hard. “No, I’ve told you before, I’ve been busy this week. It has nothing to do with our personal lives.”

“But you don’t even seem to want to be here now.”

“Garak! I just... I want...”

“What, Julian? What *do* you want? Do you want me? Is it really *me* that you want? Because if you ask me right now to go to bed with you, I’ll go. And you don’t even have to explain your actions. I don’t like this indecision, and I don’t like the fact that you’ve been avoiding me, but I can take it, as long as I know there’s a reason.”

Julian just stared, surprised at the tailor’s outburst and his effortless honesty. “Garak, I...” He closed his tired eyes and rubbed their lids with his hand, sighing in frustration. “I don’t know what *you* want from *me*. You keep asking these questions...”

“Fine, then forget the questions. Don’t answer me. But you must have come here tonight for a reason.”

“You asked me to.”

“Julian...”

“Oh I don’t know, Garak!” He stood up abruptly from his seat at the table and began pacing the floor. After a moment, Garak joined him.

“Will you just stop for a moment?” He took ahold of the other man’s shoulders to keep him still. “Look at me, Julian.” He tried to capture Julian’s elusive eyes with his own, but he just continued to stare off to the side at the floor.

Julian pushed him arms away. “God, Garak, would you just let it go? If I ask you to fuck me, I want you to fuck me, that’s all! Can’t you just leave it at that?”

“So are you asking me?!”

“Yes!”

No sooner was the word out of his mouth than Garak cleared the table with one pass of his arm, sending their uneaten meal crashing to the carpet. He began tearing off his jacket next, with fluttering, angry fingers and a set jaw. “Would you like me bent over this table? or perhaps we should pull out the restraints again? Wait, why don’t you put a gag in my mouth... that way you don’t even have to kiss me!”

Julian stood and stared at the sudden flare of Garak’s temper. Not for the first time, he wondered what the hell he was doing. Then he started to unfasten the front of his uniform. By now, Garak was shirtless. Julian continued to peel off his uniform jacket and threw it to the floor. He only needed to undo the first button of his pants before Garak was before him and on his knees, pulling his pants and underwear down to his ankles and hugging his legs to his scaled chest.

In an instant, he had him in his mouth, swirling his tongue around Julian’s already-swollen cock. Neither resisted the coupling, even though their actions still betrayed hints of their anger, a quick thrust, a sharp pinch. Garak started to calm down, and concentrated on tasting Julian, and making him want this as much as he did.

Julian could see only glimpses of Garak’s face from his position. He held onto his shoulder and his hair and fucked his mouth as hard as he could without falling over. He was angry with Garak for pushing him so hard into doing this, and for overreacting. It was almost ridiculous how much Garak wanted this, and he had no desire to make it simple for him. He didn’t want Garak to have everything easy, while he suffered alone.

Garak began using his hands to massage the backs of Julian’s thighs, then up towards his buttocks and lower back. With every touch, Julian just fucked him harder, as if trying to chase away his caresses with his impending orgasm.

With every touch, Julian could feel his release moving further and further away. He wanted nothing more than for Garak to stop, but he knew that it was the only way to keep the balance between them from exploding again. Julian imagined it differently...

Garak was still kneeling before him, but instead of supporting him with his arms, Julian imagined that he was limp and weak. The only thing keeping him off the floor was Julian’s two hands, which now rested their palms underneath his jawbone, holding his head rigid. His eyes were closed, his entire body closed-off from emotions or expressions. The skin that he touched was cold and clammy, but the inside of his mouth still lay open for him, soft and pliant.

He focused in on that mouth, like it was all that existed, and it existed only for him to fuck. Julian let the rest of his body go numb, concentrating every sensation towards his groin and forgetting the rest. There was just him, and this mouth, this empty vessel, and no end to it all. He could just fuck, and fuck, as hard as he chose to, and there were no consequences, or questions, or needy touches or desperate kisses to answer to.

As he pushed even harder, Julian imagined that he was lifting Garak’s knees off the ground completely and fucking him deep enough to draw blood. With every level he climbed, he felt himself getting closer and closer. He just needed one more detail to end this...

He envisioned Garak suddenly coming alive, his eyes opening in shock and surprise, his hands enclosing his wrists in a tight grip. He wanted Julian to let go, but he refused. Julian imagined him suffocating beneath him, trying to catch a breath through the huge, hard cock in his mouth. They fought each other for a few thrusts, Garak’s color darkening to a rosy violet under the strain. Julian felt himself so close...

He came into Garak’s mouth with the simple mechanizations of orgasm, releasing his cum into Garak’s throat and feeling the sensations course throughout his body in quiet waves that belied his emotions. Julian let go of the neck ridges that he had been gripping and let gravity take him to the floor. Garak reached the ground before him, his chest caving and falling with gasping breaths as he sat, resting on his heels and shifting his weight forward onto his fisted hands. He had just reached around to gently squeeze Julian’s balls when he tasted the salty and bitter taste of cum on his tongue and felt sharp nails dig into his neck. Garak tried to give Julian pleasure in every way that he knew how, in hopes that his words would be believed. It seemed that they had.

Meanwhile, he was achingly hard, and Julian showed no signs of moving. Garak removed the rest of his clothing and gracefully crawled over to where Julian lay sprawled on the floor. He wondered, and not for the first time, at how well Julian understood Cardassian sex. Garak himself had not had much experience with relationships, but he understood every facet of the power play that went on in the bedroom, and he was glad that Julian obviously did as well.

Covering the naked body with his own, Garak bent down for a hard kiss, awakening Julian from his post-sexual reverie. When the human tried to push him away, he grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the floor, deepening the kiss even further with the shifting of his weight. The desire was overwhelming and fierce. He wanted to give Julian back all that he’d been given in the past half-hour, and all that he’d been denied over this past week.

But without warning, Garak immediately found himself flat on his back, which a growing pain in his chest where Julian had just kneed him. By the time he got his breath back, his anger had returned as well. He turned it back on Julian.

The younger man had retreated into the bathroom while Garak had been left to recover on the floor. He heard the faucet running and didn’t even hesitate when he noticed the door was closed.

“Julian!”

He looked up from the sink where he was busy splashing his face with cold water. Garak was calling his name. Julian knew that the other man didn’t understand him. But he was also willing, and that was all he needed to know. Julian didn’t know how much longer he could fool Garak into thinking that this was only a game. He would have to wait and find out.

Julian took a deep breath and opened the door.

Garak was waiting for him on the other side, with open arms. And the next morning, his bed was empty.

***

Martok arrived back on the station a few months later fresh from battle. Despite feeling better than he had in years, Captain Sisko had requested that he visit the infirmary, just for a regular check-up. After all, Sisko understood Klingons well enough to know that they don’t like visiting Doctors, and Martok probably hadn’t seen one in a while, even during wartime.

Grumbling all the way, the General walked across the morning-quieted Promenade towards the Infirmary. He did hate seeing doctors, but that wasn’t the only reason why he was reluctant. He knew that Doctor Bashir would be there, and he wasn’t happy about that at all.

Martok usually tried to avoid Bashir at all costs. There was the fact that he was a doctor, which although respected, didn’t make him a favorite among Klingons, who relished their battle scars and bleeding wounds. But there was also their shared ordeal in the prison camp. He had watched, helpless, as Bashir was brutally raped by the Jem’Hadar. Martok did not have the slightest clue of how to deal with something like that. He never knew what to say to Bashir, or barely even knew how to handle it himself. Only in the darkest places that he knew, did things like that happen. If he had been in the Doctor’s place, he would have wished for death instead. But he never saw Bashir beg for mercy. He never heard him mention it again nor even show signs that it ever happened. Martok took that as his cue to remain silent. The less that was said, the quicker he could forget.

When he arrived in the infirmary, Bashir was at his console, reading over medical files or some other dry material. Martok filled his lungs with air, “Doctor, the Captain requested that I see you. The faster that we get this examination started, the sooner I can be done with this.”

Despite the Klingon’s gruff tone, Julian remained pleasant throughout the exam. He ignored the way Martok avoided his eyes, and the way he flinched from his touch ever so slightly. What went unspoken, nevertheless screamed across the uncomfortable silence in the room. And Martok didn’t even know about Garak.

They had continued for almost a year, fighting and fucking and making excuses for each other. It was easy, really. Every bruise, every ache, was felt with equal parts elation and frustration, until the sensations merged into one harmonious emptiness. No one noticed a difference in the way they acted. By now, they had become masters of the game of hide and seek. They hid from each other, and everyone else, and even themselves. For Garak, it was the continuation of his delusion into the self that he wanted to be. For Julian, it was just a matter of losing what little he still had. Day to day, there was nothing to worry about. Even now, as Garak’s instability was beginning to resurface again, Julian found nothing wrong with the arrangement that they had going.

“Well, despite that scar on you left hand, which you insist on keeping, everything has either healed up or beyond my help,” Julian smirked, “you’re free to go.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Martok practically ran from the room, just relieved to have that over with. He hated doctors. Especially ones who were genetically engineered liars, and who obviously didn’t mind being raped by a pack of wild animals. Thank goodness that he was a Klingon General, waging a war against the Dominion, and that didn’t have to worry about such uncomfortable things anymore.

***

“Garak, why did you just try to throw yourself out of an airlock?”

He figured that Ezri’s question was fair enough. She was just doing her job after all. And she did cause him to admit his guilt about betraying his people in the war. He just wished that he had an answer for her.

“Whatever do you mean, Ezri? I thought that I told you why. I was feeling guilty about working for the Federation, decoding Cardassian transmissions for the enemy.”

“Garak, you and I both know that there’s more to it than that. You’ve been acting strangely for quite a while now, and your claustrophobic attacks were very rare and well under control before this last incident. Now they are back in full force. Something else must have happened. Something with Julian perhaps?”

“My dear Ezri, you are entirely too imaginative to be a counselor...”

“Garak, you can quit the innocent act right now. I know that something is going on with you two. Julian is a very close friend of mine, and I’ve always been able to tell that the two of you have a mutual attraction. What I want to know is, have either of you acted upon it?”

For a moment, Garak actually considered telling her the truth. But he had to admit, these Federation counselors really weren’t very good interrogators. Take his position for instance. He was stretched out comfortably on a couch, facing away from Ezri. As much as he liked to lie to people face to face, their respective arrangement made it that much easier for him to lie. And then he didn’t.

“Yes, we have.”

Ezri couldn’t believe her ears. She knew that it was her job to trust her patient, even so she had never expected Garak to agree with her. But there was something about the way that he said it, so resigned and calm, that told her he was being honest. She decided to run with it.

“How long have the two of you been seeing each other?” she ventured.

Garak let out a cold little laugh, and then a sigh. “About a year. We meet in one of our quarters once a week, or whenever he allows it. I’m just along for the ride.”

Ezri did the math. “This began... around the time of Ziyal’s death, then?”

“Very good, counselor.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “And are you happy with your relationship with Julian?”

He paused. “Yes. Yes, I think that I am.”

Ezri probed a little deeper. “Is Julian the reason that you decided to help out the Federation in the war, then?”

“Of course. I decided that it was enough.”

“Your relationship with him was enough to convince you that maybe the Federation was worth saving?”

“No, my dear, the Federation isn’t really worth saving.” He gave her a sly look. “But Julian is. You know something? I once thought that the Federation would save us all. It is a ridiculous sentiment, to be sure, but I suppose that a part of me really believed that it was true. As I believe in Julian now.”

“And how does he feel about it?” Ezri was curious now. She had never seen Garak like this before, and apart from her training, she was intrigued by the mystery that he usually represented.

“Oh, I wouldn’t presume to talk for him. You know him well enough -- he’s Julian.”

She could tell that he was being evasive, but she figured that she should be thankful for anything that he chose to give her. “So what happened between you two? Did something go wrong recently?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that. In fact, I don’t think that my recent attacks have anything to do with him. Like I said, it was just an irrational response to guilt and fear over the war. Julian is completely separate from that.”

His tone was convincing enough. Ezri decided to change the subject. After all, she didn’t want Jadzia’s natural tendency to gossip to interfere with her patients. This time, she would have to take Garak at his word.

“So, Garak... you say that working in your shop relaxes you? Maybe we should concentrate on finding other things that my help to take your mind off of the war...”

***

The food spread on the bed was barely touched as the two lovers sat before it. Garak tried the best he could to get up his appetite but he was afraid that eating wasn’t the first thing on his mind right now. Julian sat across from him, staring at Garak as he nibbled on a corner of pita bread. When he felt brave enough to match that stare, Garak tried in vain to read what the other man was thinking.

His usually bright hazel eyes were stormy and almost frightening in their intensity. Garak felt as if he were naked, beneath his heavy wardrobe and his skin, all the way to the bone. Or a firefly in a jar, flashing SOS and slowly suffocating. It was a highly sexual sensation to be looked at that way, if a little unnerving. He knew that Julian was thinking up tonight’s kink, one that they would perform soon together. He didn’t pretend to understand Julian’s thoughts, or even his motives. It was important enough that he was here with him, and that the young doctor would open up his deepest fantasy box with him.

Garak knew enough of life to know that there were deeper emotions than love. He didn’t know the first thing about love itself, but he knew about those other, darker feelings all too well. His father alone possessed enough pride, rage, and power for a thousand sons. Garak had been a witness to it all, and was a fast learner. The things that most people spent a lifetime in denial over, he knew about from the moment he was born. Even though he hid them well, he knew that they were always there, lurking in the shadows of his heart.

That was why he needed Julian so much. He erased those emotions from his memory, as if they had never existed in the first place. And better yet, he never pretended to replace them with love. No, there was only want and need, the giving and the taking, that Garak could see. But perhaps there was more, or there would be, in the future. He knew that Julian was capable of giving everything to him, and he would give everything of himself back. That was their relationship, the winner took all.

“What is it, Julian?” he asked, while the other man smiled and blinked his eyes, caught in the act.

Then he asked the question that he always asked in situations like these. “Elim, can I ask you to do something for me?”

After that, the orders came rapidly without hesitation or uncertainty: put the dishes on the floor, undress completely, remove the bedsheets from the mattress, leave the pillows, attach these metal cuffs to your arms and legs, now lay down...

Garak obeyed without a word, the familiar evidence of an erection already making itself known. He stretched on the bed face-up, extending his arms and legs to the four posts of the bed, where Julian proceeded to tie them up with lengths of black fabric. The knots were strong, but Garak could still slide his ankles and wrists around a little in the thin cuffs. Nevertheless, he was most definitely trapped.

He watched as Julian undressed, waiting for the next step. Garak expected a mask to be put over his face, or at least a blindfold. Julian usually never let him watch his face as they were fucking. He continued to wait as Julian finished and then tested the restraints. Then Julian walked to the closet and returned with a small black bag. Placing it next to Garak’s left ribcage on the bed, he left it closed but easily within reach. “Don’t talk,” was all he said.

Garak was curious by this point, resisting the temptation to ask questions as Julian straddled his hips. He noticed the distinct lack of an erection on his lover, even while his was now achingly hard. The novelty of the situation, even in such a novel relationship such as theirs, couldn’t help but thrill him.

The pressure as Julian sat on his erection was remarkably intense. All Garak knew was that he didn’t want it to stop. Just then, Julian raised himself up just enough so that he could take Garak inside. He held onto the thick base of his cock with his hand to hold it in position and began to lower himself onto the shaft with a steady and insistent push. Beneath the overwhelming desire that Garak felt, he realized that Julian was not using any lubricant, nor was he being particularly gentle either. But the pleasure was too exquisite to be concerned with that at the moment. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation.

Garak didn’t see the pain flash briefly in Julian’s eyes when he felt the flesh inside him strain and tear. Soon enough he was completely inside of Julian and the fire in his groin spread as he began to ride him, fast and hard, once, twice, three times. They were both already sweating profusely in the hot room and the sound of their labored breaths already spoke above the quiet.

Julian stopped to grab his black bag and remove a piece of what looked like to be folded-up plastic from it. Numbly, Garak watched as Julian unfolded it, and realized that it was in fact a clear plastic bag. Before he had time to react, Julian brought it down over Garak’s head and pulled it taut across his neck, twisting and twisting the ends until no air could get through.

Garak forced himself to remain calm, convinced that this was just an old erotic trick used to increase the force of his orgasm. Julian was already moving again, bringing him closer to release even as he pulled tighter on the plastic bag at his neck. But it wasn’t fast enough. Garak could feel his lungs start to burn, and a lightheadedness as his oxygen supply was cut off. He needed to come *now* but it was too far away.

He searched Julian’s face for a sign of mercy, needing reassurance. But all he saw was a cold fire in his eyes and a determined mouth. Julian still didn’t have an erection, and Garak noticed for the first time the bright flashes of red that shone from between their legs whenever Julian lifted his body from his erection. Blood.

Garak started to thrash about in his restraints, trying to force Julian off of him, but instead he just felt thighs tighten around his abdomen as Julian pushed even harder. He could feel a claustrophobic attack coming on in full force. His head trapped in plastic and his erection enveloped in Julian’s tight ass were too much to deal with all at once. The pressure inside him built to an impossible degree, needing release from all of his restraints, within and without.

The fire in his chest became unbearable. His face turned a violent shade of purple and tears ran down his face from the strain and pain. Garak pulled on his hands with as much strength as he could bring together. He could feel the cuffs slide around on his wrists, helped by the sweat on his skin and the panic that steadily increased with each passing second. Garak couldn’t even scream. The bag conformed to his face now as he gasped for air, his mouth open like a fish on land. Still, Julian showed no sign of stopping, as the edge of the bag bruised Garak’s neck where he pulled it tauter and tauter.

Feeling the force inside of him increase even further as his orgasm became imminent, Garak experienced a small miracle. With his muscles pulled tight in expectation of his release, Garak’s wrist slid through the metal cuff and flew at Julian, knocking him off of the bed and onto the floor in one stroke. He landed with a crash on the china and the uneaten food.

Garak tore the plastic from his face and inhaled as deep as he could. Fighting off a coughing fit, he dove to the floor and picked up a knife from the pile of silverware before Julian could stop him. He slashed through the black fabric of his restraints to free himself and lunged at Julian, grabbing him by the shoulders and lifting him to his feet.

Julian allowed himself to be lifted from the floor until he was face to face with Garak. The Cardassian was a sight. His hair in complete disarray, his skin a dark violet, tears streaming from his reddened eyes, his breath came in coughs and gasps. Garak felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the balls of his feet, with no answer of where to go. He had to ask.

“Julian... what are you trying to do to me?” He screamed with every ounce breath that he had, his voice coming out like a crazed whimper.

And Julian laughed.

Still staring into Garak’s pleading eyes, he began to laugh. It started out as an impulse, and then grew and grew, until he was cackling with laughter, unable to stop. Garak froze. He was laughing at him. At *him*.

It was too much to bear. Garak felt as if he had fallen off the wrong side of the cliff, descending into the nothingness of his life as the walls closed in around him. At the center of the blackness, stood Julian, with a degree of coldness that Garak never knew could exist. Every dream of the past year with him, all that promise that he was *certain* they had between them, vanished as if it had never been there at all. Julian stood like a ghost before him, as if he had been replaced slowly, piece by piece, by ether and shadow, until there was none left.

He felt like such a fool, in the worst way. *What had he done?* Julian, Cardassia, Ziyal, Tain... all lost to him now, with utter finality. And Julian stood there before him, looking at him with not love or passion or guilt, but with a pity and a hatred of the purest variety.

Garak opened his mouth but no sound came out. All over now.

He let go of Julian’s shoulder with his one hand and dug his nails in with the other. His arm swept downward in one smooth stroke, sinking the knife into the lean torso.

Julian gasped and flailed his arms around in a futile shock, just as his knees gave out. Garak followed him down as he fell, and they dove to the floor together as their hand and chest met again and again in silent screaming.

Garak didn’t stop even after the body remained still. His hand moved with a memory of its own, of a deeper reasoning. Then it was silent.

Finally finding the floor beneath him, Garak dropped the knife from his hand and saw Julian’s body now. His skin was swathed in blood, and black lines that marked the smoothness with slots that looked shallow, but reached all the way through.

Garak just knelt there, hands over his eyes, doubled over against the cold floor. He rocked back and forth in a steady rhythm, calling out nothing but that beautiful name over and over again.

Julian... Julian... Julian...

***

My dear one,

I thought that I saw you yesterday, even though I knew that it was impossible. But the mind can play cruel tricks sometimes, wouldn’t you agree?

I was at the central square in town, wearing my usual garb of black robes and hood (fashion, indeed, in a luxury now) trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. I still have a few of my old talents left, you know. You (or the person that I believed to be you) were standing far off in the crowd and searching around for something that I didn’t think that you found. And then you were gone again. Sigh, that happens from time to time. I suppose that I am truly getting old now.

Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like if you were before me again. I wonder if those old sentiments would return to me as if they had never left. But I’m a different person that I was then. I realize now the futility and uselessness of our situation. What a waste of time it all was.

I’d like to believe that my life was not wasted in the end. That perhaps I really did find something that I was looking for. Well, you could at least indulge an old man in his ramblings, in any case. After all, what do we have left after our self-indulgences and our petty selfish desires? From where I stand, not much. Which is a pity, because I could have sworn at one time that there was so much more...

I prefer not to remember you as you were then, but as I see you now in the square, or out of the corner of my eye. Perhaps my fantasies are not gone for good. Perhaps you are a part of me, and I hold you captive against your will, some place deep in this cold shell that I live inside. You would like in this place, I suppose. There’s no pretense or pride anymore, and the sky that used to burn purple at dusk is now just a hazy wasteland of heat and dust. We say that we like our home this way. It reminds us of the good old days of starvation and torture. Well, never say that we’ve lost our sense of humor, at least.

It’s funny, of all the things that I could say to you, I can’t think of a single thing. I guess that there’s always going to be that want between us, a chasm that can never be filled. Ah, but we can pretend, can’t we? After all, that’s what we’re best at.

This isn’t working out as well as I’d hoped. I suppose that too much has gone now from us to ever get it back. We’ll just never have an ending, just as we never had a beginning. There is just me and you, once and for all, fucking dead men while singing of love and saviors. And I have no mercy for you anymore.

Please tell me when I reach the end of you, so I can stop...


End file.
